


Unprofessional

by Anonymous



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Praise Kink, Trans Male Character, enjoy, i wanted to see tommy x trans man reader, reader's Bits referred to with male slang mostly, so i did that, tommy's a little confused but he's got the spirit, uhhh so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:02:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28992624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: When Mr Shelby first summons you to his office, you're afraid he knows.  You’re not sure if it would make any difference- you follow orders, you do the work, you get your shit done, and that’s all Mr Shelby seems to care about- but you still worry.Although… the looks could be attraction.  You’d been trying to ignore that explanation.  You were sure you were just projecting your own desires onto him.But were you?
Relationships: Tommy Shelby/Reader
Kudos: 27
Collections: Anonymous





	Unprofessional

You’re pretty sure Tommy had figured it out. Obviously, there was little you could do to hide the fact that you were a trans man, short of binding your chest and cutting your hair. All said, you fit in pretty well among the Blinders. But the looks the leader gave you… a small, nagging part of you was convinced he knew. You’re not sure if it would make any difference- you follow orders, you do the work, you get your shit done, and that’s all Mr Shelby seems to care about- but you still worry.

Although… the looks could be attraction. You’d been trying to ignore that explanation. Mr Shelby seemed to be more exclusively attracted to the fairer sex. You were sure you were just projecting your own desires onto him.

Until, one day, he called you to his office.

You straightened your cap and made sure you were tidy before knocking on the door.

“Come in,” he calls. He’s sitting at his desk, smoking, of course, but it doesn’t look like he is doing much work.

“Yes, Mr Shelby?” you ask, as you step up in front of his desk. You try not to fidget as he makes a show of putting out his cigarette before looking up at you.

He doesn’t say anything for an excruciating while. For a moment, you’re convinced he’s going to draw his gun and shoot you on the spot. You brush the thought away as he finally starts to speak.

“I’ve noticed the looks you give me,” he says, business-like. Your heart jumps into your throat. “It’s not very professional.”

You unconsciously step backwards as he stands up. “Apologies, Mr Shelby, I’m sure it’s not what you think it is.”

He’s always so much taller in your head when you’re thinking about him, but when he goes to kiss you, it’s only a gap of a few inches he has to lean down to close. You make a little noise of shock before relaxing into his control, your heart racing.

“You’re sure, huh?” he says with a smirk as he pulls away. “It’s not what I thought it was, huh?” Despite his words, his tone is not angry. It’s hard to tell what it is. His expression is unreadable other than his general smug attitude.

“I- I- I’m sorry, Mr Shelby,” you stammer out, confused. 

He shrugs. “You can’t help wanting what you want.” He circles back around to his chair and sits back behind his desk.

“Even if I want you?” you blurt out without thinking. You feel the blood drain from your face.

Mr Shelby is looking down at his desk, and you see him grin. You’re not sure if that’s reassuring, until he looks up at you. “Especially if you want me, I’d wager.”

You’re trying desperately to piece it all together- has he clocked you? is your attraction mutual?- when he hands you a small piece of paper and a pen. “Give me your address please. I’m having Pol update our staffing records.”

You scribble down your address- a dingy apartment not too far from here- and hand it back to him. He looks it over and nods. “Very well. You’re free to leave.”

Just as you head to the door, though, you hear his chair scrape against the floor and you freeze in your tracks. You hear his footsteps land until he is behind you, and then you feel his lips on your neck, and you let out an involuntary gasp.

“Might want to tidy up your place, hey? You never know when company is coming,” he says, right into your ear in a low voice that makes you shiver. Then he brushes past you and out into the hallway, leaving you standing dumbfounded in his office. You collect yourself as much as you can, and immediately head home to start cleaning.

-

By the time supper rolls around, you’ve made sure the place is nearly spotless. You’re not entirely sure what Mr Shelby meant, but it certainly sounded like a promise. You’ve set the kettle on and are halfway through preparing your meager meal when there’s a knock on your door. You feel your pulse run wild like a racehorse again as you quickly walk to the door, checking the peephole. Sure enough, Mr Shelby is at your door. You walk to the bathroom and make sure you’re presentable before opening the door.

“Good evenin’, Mr Shelby,” you say, trying to sound hospitable and not as if your heart is trying its damnedest to escape your body. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” The words sound fake as they come out of your mouth, overly pretentious and dry.

He steps in without being invited, looking around your apartment. “Pleasure, mostly, I suppose.”

Now that catches you off-guard. “Would you like tea, or- or- something a little stronger?” you ask, remembering your manners. You’re dimly aware of him taking off and hanging up his coat and cap while you’re fussing around in the kitchen.

“I won’t turn down whisky, if you have any,” he says. You nod and start rifling through your cabinets until you come up with a half-empty bottle. You set out two glasses and pour you each a drink. He takes it from you and takes a sip, licking his lips after he swallows.

That set the tips of your ears to burning, your mind filling with impure thoughts. Not that they hadn’t been there since your strange… interaction… with Mr Shelby earlier today, but you’d done a pretty good job at burying them until just now.

“Good,” he says, setting his glass down. “Now.”

“...yes, Mr Shelby?” you say. It feels tense in the kitchen suddenly, like you could wave a knife and cut the air. He steps up to you, and you are distinctly aware of his eyes resting on your lips.

“Please, call me Thomas,” he says. “We’re in your home, I’ll have none of that formality.” He tilts your chin up to look at him with a finger.

“Thomas…” you whisper, before he kisses you again, less reserved this time. Your lips part and he kisses you deeply. You can taste the shitty whisky on his lips, the faint cigarette-smell of his breath.

“You live alone,” he says, still staring at your mouth. It’s not really a question. It’s a statement. Of course he knows that. “A lonely man, aren’t you?”

Your face starts burning. “Well, yes.” Swallowing, you muster up a little courage. “I hear you are a lonely man, too.”

He steps away from you at that, face turning unreadable. “Won’t be lonely tonight.”

“You intend to stay?” you ask. You feel emboldened to put a hand on him, resting on his chest. Through his shirt and vest, you can feel his leanly muscled body, solid against your hand.

There’s a moment of silence, and for a moment you feel like you might’ve overstepped. Like you could’ve misread the last few minutes somehow.

“I intend to stay,” he says, before clearing his throat. “If you’ll have me, of course.”

Any possible thing you could say feels wrong. _Of course I’ll have you, it’s not like I’ve been having dreams of having you in my bed for months now. Yes, a perfectly acceptable thing to say to your boss, who happens to be one of the most feared gangsters around._

So instead, you just nod. You grab his hand and lead him to your bedroom.

You go for his vest first. The buttons are tiny and you fumble with them, and he chuckles under his breath at you. When you finally get it off and slide it to the floor, he only lets you unbutton the top two buttons of his shirt before he pulls it over his head.

He kisses you again, not letting you continue to undress him. “Handsome boy,” he says, trailing his lips down your neck.

You palm his cock over his trousers, feeling a little shocked by his size. You had, of course, imagined him as being big, but finding it to be as large in reality was a pleasant surprise. He hisses out through his teeth.

“You’re wearing too many clothes for my taste,” he says. He grabs your shirt collar, but you bat his hands away.

“I have scars, Mr Shelby,” you say weakly. “Ones I’d prefer you didn’t see.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Scars?” He gestures to his exposed chest. “I have my share, and then some. Nothing to hide.”

You start to panic for a moment, trying to come up with any other excuse for you to remain clothed. But he seems to notice your discomfort and doesn’t press the issue.

“Bed?” you ask to change the subject.

He throws himself back onto your bed, like it’s the most natural place in the world for him to be. You undo the button on his trousers, sliding them down.

You rub his cock through his boxers, and he moans. It’s a beautiful sound that goes directly between your legs.

You crawl back up to kiss him again, but he stops you. “I can think of a far better use for that mouth of yours.” He says it with the most cocky grin, leaving nothing to imagination of what he wants you to do.

Well, at least he’s direct. As you make your way down, you litter his chest with kisses, tasting the sweat on his skin.

By the time you get down to his cock, he is hard and leaking, straining against the cotton of his boxers. You pull them down, taking him in your hand and jacking him off a bit before you lick a long stripe on the underside of his cock. You drag your lips along the side, and then give little kitten licks to the tip, making eye contact with him as you do so.

“Oh, fuck,” he moans. You curl your lips around your teeth and take the head into your mouth, sucking softly. He puts his hand on the back of your head, not forcing you down further, just providing some soft guidance.

His quiet grunts spur you on as you work his cock past your gag reflex. You choke slightly, and saliva dribbles down his shaft, which you use as you work your hands around it, moving your hands in time with the bobbing of your head. He’s cursing at you, not because he’s angry, but because you’re doing so good. He pulls your hair, pulling you off his cock. Your lips are puffy and red and stretched, and you can only imagine what a sight you are from his perspective.

“Beautiful,” he mutters. He lets go of your hair and lets you go back to work.

His hips thrust involuntarily, fucking your throat. You both moan at the same time, which seems to surprise him.

“Ah, so you _are_ a whore, aren’t you?” he says. You hum your approval, sending vibrations through his cock and tears leak out of your eyes. “I figured you would be, from the way you were looking at me. Hungry.”

You take him down to the base, your nose brushing the dark hair at the base of his cock. He groans again, and you hear his breathing getting more ragged by the second. You pull off again, this time just taking the head back into your mouth. When he comes, you want to taste it.

And you can tell he’s getting closer. Not that he tells you, of course, but you can read it through his body language. The way his abdomen tenses, the way his eyes fall closed, the throb of his dick in your mouth.

He curls his fist in your hair as he comes, the taste bitter on your tongue. He showers you with praise, telling you what a good boy you are as you swallow. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and take a moment to catch your breath as he recovers.

You lay down next to him and he kisses you roughly. He gets on top of you, and his hand goes to your crotch. You try to stop him, of course you do, but he’s too fast, and where he expected to find a bulge, he finds nothing. He looks confused for a moment but otherwise doesn’t miss a beat, rubbing you over your trousers. The fear you felt starts to subside a bit and instead you focus on the pleasure.

“You like that?” he asks, knowing damn well what the answer will be. You sound debauched as you moan in reply.

He slides his hand under your trousers, and his calloused fingers rub against your dick, using the wetness from your hole to moisten his fingertips. It’s been awhile since someone other than yourself touched you, and it feels more amazing than it should.

“Please, Thomas,” you say. “Fuck…”

“What, did you think I would not reciprocate? You think I’m that selfish?”

“Ah, no, M- Mr Shelby,” you groan. “Just feels s-so good.”

He smiles, looking self-satisfied. He tugs down your trousers and your boxers, exposing you fully. His breath on your dick is tantalizingly warm.

Naturally he can’t go right for your pleasure- that would be far too simple. So instead he covers the soft skin on the inside of your thighs in little bruises and bite marks. He glances back up at you, his ice-blue eyes sparkling.

And then, blessedly, he drags his tongue along your hole up to your dick, and you moan loud enough that you fear the neighbors will worry.

Mr Shelby clearly knows what he’s doing. He wraps his lips around your dick, sucking and flicking it with his tongue. Your back arches but he pushes you back down with a hand on each hip.

He keeps going until you’re right on the edge. And then he backs off, kissing your thighs again.

“C’mon, Thomas, please,” you beg. That makes him stop entirely.

You swear at him for a little bit before realizing that won’t get anything done. You realize that you’re entirely at his mercy now, and very little you do will change his course of action.

“You don’t like being teased?” he asks, circling a finger around your dick. “I would’ve thought you did, on account of how long it took me to get you into bed.” He tilts his head. “I thought to myself, now, surely this man knows I want to bed him, but he’d do anything to not be in the same room as me, huh?”

Blushing, you try to guide his hand back to where you want it, but he resists. “Ah-ah,” he chides, making you feel like a petulant child.

It seems like years that he teases you, touching anywhere but where you want him to touch you. His hands are rough but he’s gentle enough to use that to his advantage. 

“Mr Shelby,” you whimper pathetically.

Somehow that seems to persuade him. He goes back down, licking your dick again, swirling over it with his tongue.

You cry out again. You feel your thighs start to shake as you get closer to orgasm, and you bite down on your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.

This time, he’s merciful. “There you are, darling boy,” he purrs as you come, convulsing. Your ears are ringing faintly.

You scramble to pull your trousers back up, even though you know you’ll make a mess of your boxers if you do so without cleaning up first. Thomas gets up, going to his vest and pulling out his cigarette case. Ever the gentlemen, he offers you one as well, which you take, even though you aren’t much of a smoker.

Nobody says anything for awhile as you lay next to each other on your bed, puffing at your respective cigarettes.

“You’re still a man to me,” he says suddenly, catching you off guard in the silence.

“...I appreciate that very much, Mr Shelby,” you reply.

“In my eyes, it doesn’t matter much what a fellow has as much as he conducts himself. And no one knows how to suck cock like another man, and you certainly know how.”

At that, you laugh, feeling relieved. You hadn’t expected him to be so forward-thinking. He wipes the blood from your lip with his thumb

There’s another lull, and you shut your eyes. You think maybe he fell asleep, but as you look over he’s staring at your ceiling. He doesn’t seem to notice you watching when he gets up and starts getting dressed again.

He’s heading for the door of your bedroom and you sit up. “Mr Shelby?”

He seems startled, and he turns around. You immediately know he was trying to sneak out.

“Leaving so soon?” you ask, disappointed.

He nods curtly. “I really ought to be going.”

“I can’t persuade you to stay any longer?” 

“I’m afraid not. I have work to tend to. Although, this was a _very_ nice distraction.” He finishes clasping his belt buckle. “Perhaps another visit will be in order on another day.”

You sigh, resigned, and crawl out of bed. “At least let me show you out.”

You walk him to the kitchen, wearing he grabs his coat and cap. Before he puts his cap on, he kisses you and there’s an air of finality to it. You moan softly into his mouth.

Then he pulls away and tugs his cap over his hair. You can see the glint of a razor blade hidden in the brim as he opens the door and the streetlamp shines in.

“Have a good night, Mr Shelby,” you say as he heads out the door.

“And you as well,” he replies with a wink. The door closes behind him.

You head back to your bedroom, where the sheets smell like him, and curled up in their warmth you fall fast asleep, content.

**Author's Note:**

> hi i've never written x reader before so this was a fun little exercise. also, this is so very niche but i figure there has to be at least one other person who will enjoy this. any comments deeply appreciated as always <3


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